


Black Coffee

by wordsliketeeth



Series: Rumors [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Bullying, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Gen, Internal Conflict, Kirisaki Daiichi High (Freeform), Threats of Violence, Verbal Humiliation, malicious intent, sadistic behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 04:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17759729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsliketeeth/pseuds/wordsliketeeth
Summary: "The dig of Hanamiya's mouth breaks into the white slash of a smile but you can see tension grow tight along the line of his jaw. Something dark and resonant rumbles in the low of his chest and he lowers himself down just enough to exhale coffee and bitter chocolate against your lips. 'We're here because you don't know how to mind your business. Don't test me. I won't think twice about hurting you and that, will get me off.'" Hanamiya doesn't like your personality and he's determined to make it known.





	Black Coffee

The truth hits you harder than you can prepare for and the weight of it is heavier than the proverbial smoking gun in your hand, pointed straight at Hanamiya’s chest in the same way it usually is when it’s your turn to vie for the win. 

But something about this challenge is different. The victim of Hanamiya’s rhetorical abuse is already long gone from the scene and something about the self-righteous grin settling in against the shape of his lips makes your blood run cold. There’s no one to fight for, nothing to defend, yet, Hanamiya stands rooted to the spot as if your reproach is the highlight of his day. It makes no sense considering how useless your ammo is against the bulletproof vest he’s sewn into the very shape of his heart. You’re used to having to contend with Hanamiya’s imperious bravado but never without the preyed upon within the reaches of his claws. 

“Aren’t you going to condemn me for my sanctimonious behavior?” Hanamiya asks, his voice dripping with childish sarcasm. “I believe those were your choice words before, weren’t they? You’ll have to correct me if I’m wrong. I don’t make a habit out of remembering meaningless material.”  
  
“You get off on this, don’t you?” You don’t bother hiding the disgust that seeps into your tone like a slow-moving poison, acerbic and sharp against your tongue—you probably couldn’t even if you tried for the way the veracity sticks to your skin. 

Hanamiya huffs a breath of laughter that sounds more like a scoff than an expression of amusement. He arches an eyebrow and lifts the corner of his twisted lips into a dangerous smirk, as much of a predator’s smile as it is a wolfish grin. “Do you really think that I’d give you the satisfaction of holding something like that against me?” Hanamiya steps forward and you think to widen the gap between you as the ink-haired boy shuffles closer but you can’t seem to unglue your feet from the time-worn tiles beneath you. It’s not until Hanamiya is within mere inches from your frame that you take a step backward but you’re met with the cold resistance of the wall at your back and nowhere else to go. 

Hanamiya cages you between his arms, his palms hitting the wall behind you with a dull smack that seems to echo in your ears. You remind yourself that you’ve never been afraid to stand up to him, that you’ve never shied away from the ominous look in his eyes or the sharp cut of his serpent’s tongue; so you lift your head and stand in the charcoal stain of his shadow like the darkness spells home. You wear confidence like a second skin and tilt your head just enough to stare into the false warmth of Hanamiya’s gaze. “To answer your question, no I don’t. You could never give me satisfaction, Hanamiya-kun. But that’s not why we’re here now, is it?”  
  
The dig of Hanamiya’s mouth breaks into the white slash of a smile but you can see tension grow tight along the line of his jaw. Something dark and resonant rumbles in the low of his chest and he lowers himself down just enough to exhale coffee and bitter chocolate against your lips. “We’re here because _you_ don’t know how to mind your business. Don’t test me, ____. I won’t think twice about hurting you and _that_ , _will_ get me off.”  
  
“You’re disgusting,” you tell him, and plant your palms against his chest to shove him away from you. He doesn’t move as much as you’d like him to but any distance between you is better than none. “I won’t be a part of your sick games. The only reason I get involved with you at all is because you can’t seem to control your juvenile need to pick on people. Imayoshi-kun might call you a sadist but I think you’re a coward—all bullies are.” 

Hanamiya narrows his eyes at the mention of Imayoshi’s name but you’re walking away before he has an opportunity to continue the conversation you’ve long finished with. 

* * *

The following day is unseasonably warm and the sun is blinding in its brightness due to its week-long streak of absences. Birds are nestled high in the tree branches as they sing a chorus of various notes that shouldn’t sound as good together as they do. You notice that the sidewalk is still damp from the morning dew as you make your way up to the school’s entrance doors between a cacophony of idle chatter. You absentmindedly rove your eyes over the quick-dissolving footprints of the person ahead of you, the wet concrete not enough to mark their existence in time. For a brief moment, you’re overcome with a rush of sadness that has nothing and everything to do with the many students surrounding you. You wonder how many of them you’ll actually see again after graduation, how many will be forgotten in time; you think about how you don’t even know the names of half of them and you find yourself hoping that at least _someone_ does because you can’t bear the thought of anyone living with that kind of loneliness.   

You hear the familiar slowness of footsteps shuffling against the pavement behind you and without sparing a glance over your shoulder, you hastily make your way inside the building in an effort to avoid unnecessary confrontation. 

You don’t spend too long at your locker, only withdrawing the items that you need for your first period in hopes that you’ll avoid a certain boy with jet black hair, cold eyes, and an affinity for spiders. 

To your surprise, you manage to avoid him until fourth period, which is inevitable on the _very unfortunate_ grounds that you share the same professor. You take longer than strictly necessary to enter the classroom and when you do, you avoid the row of desks you know Hanamiya’s seated in. 

Ten minutes into the lecture you can feel a prickle of heat crawl up your spine and lift the fine hairs that rest against the back of your neck. You don’t have to look in Hanamiya’s direction to know that he’s staring at you because he seems to be the only one capable of drawing such an unsettling impression over you like a wet blanket humming with the threat of electricity. 

You discreetly place a hand over the nape of your neck and rub at the sensation but it only spreads to an uncomfortable twist of heat in the low of your belly. You exhale an exaggerated sigh and press the tip of your pen to the paper in front of you so hard that a small hole appears in the center of your notes. You inhale a deep breath and swallow down the urge to flash Hanamiya your middle finger. You don’t know what about today is making it so easy for him to dig deep into your skin but you can tolerate the feeling as much as the unwelcome thought that parasites are the reason for the gnawing sensation creeping up the curve of your spine.  
  
You’re lost to your thoughts and the dark ink spilling out across your notes when Hanamiya gets called on for an answer in relation to last night’s homework. It’s only when you hear the low drag of his voice that you pull yourself back to the present but in hindsight, you’ll almost wish you hadn’t.  


“Why don’t you ask ____? She seems to have an answer for everything. She is fucking her tutor after all.” His words are clear and articulate and no matter how hard you try to twist his statement into something less heinous you keep coming to the same end. You slam your hand down on your desk and turn to face him directly, ignoring the many faces mirroring shock around you.  


“Are you seriously going to do this? Now you’re trying to start rumors about me? Firstly, I’m smart enough that I don’t need a tutor, and secondly, whether I’m sleeping with anyone or not is nobody’s business.” You narrow your eyes in Hanamiya’s direction and clench your jaw in preparation for his counter-statement.  
  
“My apologies. So you’re just fucking Imayoshi-san of your own free will. I’ll make sure to get it right next time.” Hanamiya bows his head in a gesture that would indicate an apology if it were anyone else.

“Ew. I didn’t know she was sleeping with ol’ four-eyes,” Hara tells Seto behind you, who’s only half-aware of what’s going on.

“Shut up,” you snap, turning to look at Hara who merely shrugs behind a bright pink bubble easily the size of his head. You look back at Hanamiya who looks far too pleased with himself and clutch your hands into fists. “I’m not sleeping with Imayoshi and there won’t _be_ a next time. I don’t know why you’re so fixated on me but I assure you that you’re never going to get whatever it is you want from me.” 

“I don’t want anything from you,” Hanamiya tells you simply, as if he’s already bored of the conversation he started. It makes anger well in the space below your ribcage and the steady flow of your blood rise to a low boil. Then he adds: “Frankly, I didn’t know any who would until I heard the rumors.”  
  
“Then maybe this was your twisted way of figuring out whether or not Imayoshi-kun and I were sleeping together so you could try your hand at seducing him yourself. You seem like the type who’d like to be certain of your success before attempting anything that could bruise your precious ego.” Your lips curve into an automatic smile as the class positively responds to the gravity of your remark with drawn-out _oohs_ and quiet laughter. 

However, Hanamiya seems as unfazed by the response as he does anything really and leans back to drape his arms over the back of his seat. “If I wanted to sleep with Senpai I would have by now and believe me, it wouldn’t take me seducing him to get him on board. Which is something that I found interesting about you—you didn’t even wait for his consent before you took him into your mouth. You’re bolder than I pinned you for, ____. I’ll give you that. Oh, and for the record” –Hanamiya leans forward and presses his elbows in against his knees– “I happen to _love_ bruises.”    
  
You open your mouth to reply, ire so thick in the back of your throat you feel like you’re choking on it with every shallow breath you take into your lungs—but at that moment a booming voice sounds from the front of the room that quickly ends your feud.  


Hanamiya slides back into his seat in a single fluid motion and his expression remains unchanged even as you’re both given multiple detentions for disrupting the class with rude and inappropriate behavior.  
  
You press your mouth into a thin line and bite the inside of your cheek in a failed attempt to restrain your emotions. Despite your best efforts, tears catch on the lines of your lashes and the dry heat that stings behind your eyes is enough to send them spilling down over the red of your cheeks. You keep your head straight and pin your focus on a poster at the head of the room to keep from giving too much of yourself away but you know that several students have already seen you crack.  
  
You try to ignore the hushed whispers and the passing of notes that spread through the classroom like a wildfire you can’t escape from but overlooking what’s right in front of you proves to be impossible. You lower your head and stare at the trembling of your hands and that’s when you hear Hara whisper: “Well he did ask them to stop three times before he finally lost his cool.”  
  
You wonder how it’s possible that you didn’t hear your professor, _if what Hara says is true_ , but something tells you that it is and somehow, that knowledge makes everything that much harder to swallow. It just confirms that Hanamiya is capable of manipulating you like he does everyone else and you had previously prided yourself on the fact that you were different—that you were _stronger_. But as you listen to the words ghosting past you like the cold bite of winter’s frore, you feel like the foundation you’d put so much time into building is crumbling beneath the weight of doubt and apprehension.  


You find yourself hating your classmates for being so easily influenced, for accepting a lie without seeking out any evidence that what Hanamiya’s proposing is true. It makes you want to exploit Hanamiya’s weaknesses, to expose his reputation for the cancer that it is. It makes you realize that he has what it takes to make a monster out of you.  


You make your way to your locker after class finally comes to an end, desperately trying to drive out the negative thoughts that feed on your momentary weakness like a clew of leeches searching for blood. You bungle your locker combination several times before getting it right but when you finally open the door, Hanamiya pushes it shut and pins you up against the cold metal.  


“This is just the beginning, ____,” he tells you, his breath cool against the shell of your ear. “I hope you’re up to the challenge. If not, then I’m looking forward to breaking you.” With that, he shoves himself away from your locker and the soft resistance of your body, and in the short time it takes for you to turn around and face him he’s already walking away.  
  
You spend the rest of the day fending off questions about your _affair_ with Imayoshi and obscene gestures from immature boys who’re hoping that the rumors are true, and by the end of it, you can’t think of a single person you’ve ever loathed more than Hanamiya. Which is why when Seto approaches you as you’re leaving school, you can’t help but correlate his personality with Hanamiya’s when you take their friendship into account. You open your mouth to tell him to leave you alone but he’s tossing a hand up in a halfhearted show of defense.  


“I just happened to be walking by when I saw you. I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to tell you this but now that I’m here, I guess it won’t hurt anything. It’s true that Makoto is attacking you because he despises your close relationship with Imayoshi but there’s more to it than that.”  
  
You make to say something a second time but he shakes his head to dispel your attempt. “I don’t want to make this a whole thing. Just know that he’s attracted to you and that you need to be careful. He won’t hesitate to hurt you, not physically or otherwise. When he wants something, he doesn’t stop trying until it’s his and that includes people. ”  
  
Seto walks away and you see no point in calling him back because it’s obvious that he’s finished doing whatever it is he feels he needed to do. You wonder if he has some kind of motive behind his recent action or if he was merely trying to warn you but it leaves you feeling two shades emotional and six shades confused.  
  
It leaves you wondering when you started losing hold.    
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
